Fatherhood: Maybe It Was All For The Best
by Delilah's Soliloquy
Summary: There was no baby. There never was a baby. But that didn't stop Will from wondering if he had what it takes to be a good father. Reflecting on all the fathers he's known--at 3:17 in the morning--Will wonders if it was all for the best.


**Hey, fellow Gleeks, Delilah here. This is my first published fic, so reviews are love! I'm generally a sucker for Tartie fics, but this idea popped into my head on my way home from work one night and it just wouldn't leave me alone!**

**Disclaim****er: I own absolutely nothing. It's Ryan Murphy's world; I just sing in it. **

Fatherhood: Maybe It Was All For The Best

Will Scheuster turned over to better see the green, luminous numbers on his clock radio for the fifth time that night. 3:17 A.M. He rolled over again and saw nothing beside him but empty space. Terri's absence would take some getting used to.

It was no use. Will pulled himself out of bed, headed to the kitchen and poured some milk into the first mug he came across in the dark cabinet. It was one of Terri's Pottery Barn acquisitions, and he halted on the spot for a second. He set off towards the living room, absentmindedly gazing at the photographs hung along the walls of the hallway. Seeing himself and Terri, looking so happy together still left him with a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. He supposed he was simply grateful that they had not thought to take any pictures of Terri during her 'pregnancy'. Will did not think he'd be able to bear the sight of her deception and his heartache, advertised for all to see in a $34.00 distressed hardwood Pottery Barn frame on the mantle.

It was this small bereavement—the loss of the daughter he never knew and who, in fact, never really existed—that filled Will with a sadness and heartache that completely overshadowed Terri's departure and even her betrayal. Fatherhood—it had been a new and terrifying prospect, but a thrilling one all the same. Will knew, at the very moment Terri had announced her pregnancy, that he would give _anything_, including (and he winced at how corny it sounded) his own life to ensure that this baby—_his child_—would never feel one ounce of pain or sadness. But it was all for nothing. She had lied to him. It was over.

It seemed Will's body had followed this train of thought, for he found himself looking at another framed picture—this one on the end table beside the sofa. Will looked down to see his own face, smiling back up at him, dressed in his wedding day finest. He was standing with his father, who had an arm around Will's shoulder. Both men were beaming at the camera, faces positively shining with optimistic bliss. The sight of his own father brought new thoughts to the surface of Will's anguished, tired brain.

_Maybe it was all for the best_, said one nasty little voice. _Maybe I just wasn't ready to be a father. What kind of father would I have been, anyway? _

Will thought of his own father. He was a good man, but he had his faults. He had once burned down the Scheuster family home after a drunken argument with his wife. He himself was the first to admit to his lack of courage. Will wanted to be the kind of father his son or daughter would run to for protection, whether it be from the monster under the bed, the bullies at school, or the fear of leaving home for college. He had conquered his own fears and past regrets when he started Acafellas, and never again did he want to say he missed out on an opportunity because he didn't have the guts to take a chance.

But what about the other fathers he knew of? He was, after all, a teacher; he came into contact with parents all the time. Will learned a lot about fatherhood just from watching his students, especially his Glee kids. There was Puck—his dad was known far and wide as a deadbeat, a Lima loser. Will didn't know how a man could simply abandon his child and it comforted him to know that he would at least be a better father to his daughter than Puck's father was to his son. And what about Puck himself? _Good intentions, but a bit clueless_, thought Will. He clearly wanted to help Quinn out with his baby, but selling marijuana-laced cupcakes while chasing cougar tail perhaps wasn't the most noble of paternal gestures. _He's just a kid. I would do better._

Finn Hudson's dad was killed during Desert Storm. Finn had never known him. The very thought chilled Will. _What if something happened to me and I couldn't take care of my daughter? What would we do?_ Finn's first role model had been, if Will remembered correctly, a guy named Darren who spray painted dead lawns a vibrant green and left Finn and his mom for a girl he'd met at the Pick 'n Save. Not much of a father replacement at all. Will knew that Finn looked up to him as a sort of father figure, coming to him with his problems, but who would fill that role if Will weren't there? Who would be there for Will's daughter if he had somehow failed? _Maybe it was for the best…_

Kurt Hummel. He had been terrified to let his father know that he was gay. _Ironic_, thought Will, as Kurt's homosexuality stood out as much as his over-the-top designer clothes. The thought of his child being afraid to trust him with their deepest, darkest secret saddened Will. _But Kurt's father already knew,_ he reminded himself. _And he supported him_. Kurt had thrown the _Defying Gravity _solo to protect his father. Would Will's daughter have done the same? Or would she have known that Will would protect _her_, and not vice-versa? _Could I protect her? I can't even protect the kids in Glee…_

Quinn Fabray's father kicked her out. He gave her exactly thirty minutes to pack, Finn had told Will in the choir room one afternoon, and then turned her out on the street. Will couldn't imagine doing something like that to his baby girl…but then again, he couldn't imagine his baby girl telling him that she was pregnant, either. The way Finn had described the scene to him, it seemed that Mr. Fabray had seen his daughter's pregnancy as a betrayal of trust. Had he felt like Will had, when Terri's lies had come out? Maybe Will couldn't criticize, after all. He always wanted to believe the best of people, and it hurt to be disappointed. Still, he was Quinn's _father…_

_Rachel has two dads_. Will wondered if that made any difference. Surely they were the source of Rachel's confidence. He recalled Rachel bragging about the extra classes and lessons they had paid for, all so Rachel could follow her dreams. Will had a sudden mental image of himself, pulling a station wagon up in front of Miss Rosemary's School of Dance, and a little girl dressed in pink tights and a black leotard climbing out of the passenger seat. The girl had his curly hair. "Bye, Dad!" she called out to him, waving as she slung her bag over her shoulder with her free hand. The image disappeared as quickly as it had materialized, and Will felt a sudden burning in the corners of his eyes.

_Maybe it's for the best. What if I messed up somehow? What if something went horribly wrong?_ The mental images returned, and Will indulged himself for a few minutes more. He was back in the station wagon, reaching over to turn up the radio and sneak another glance at the angel sitting beside him. She had rolled down the window, her unruly curls blowing like crazy in the wind, occasionally obscuring her gleeful smile from view. Her eyes were alight with joy, full of love for Will, her father. He was entranced by this scene—so much so, that he didn't see the other driver speed through the red light. He heard the crash of splintered metal and shattered glass and a high scream riddled with terror and pain, and shuddered as though it were really happening to him. Will pictured himself: bleeding, horrified, trapped by the seatbelt, frantically reaching for the sliver of brown curls and porcelain skin he could spot through the wreckage. She wasn't moving. Will shook himself, both mentally and physically. _Don't think about that_.

Was that why this had happened? Had the hysterical pregnancy been fate's way of showing Will he was just not ready to take responsibility for another human life? What would he do if something like the car wreck he'd visualized had really happened? Suddenly, the world seemed like a much bigger, scarier place, full of hidden dangers and menace. _Is this how Artie Abrams' father felt?_ Will wondered what _he_ would do in such a situation, seeing his beloved child broken and himself powerless to help. Would he be strong enough to go on? For his daughter? Even if it killed him every day to look at her and see only his failure in protecting her from everything bad?

Will's mind had spun into overdrive, thinking of a father's influence on all of his 'kids'. _Did Mercedes inherit her fierceness from her dad?_ He knew Dr. Jones was a dentist, but it wasn't totally out of the question. Mercedes' dad was home with her all the time, whereas Tina's dad was usually out of town on business. Will was no psychologist, but he was sure that Mercedes' advantage over Tina in self-confidence and pride came from having a dependable father in her corner. Had Mike Chang learned to dance from his dad? What about that jerk Karovsky, who harassed the kids in Glee? Had he learned cruelty at his father's knee?

A glance at a picture of a grinning Will and Terri on vacation last summer brought Will back to earth. There was no baby. Nothing to plan for. No use in speculating about what sort of father he would be, because the cold, hard fact remained—_he wasn't going to be a father_. Will sighed, walked back to the kitchen, left his now-empty mug in the sink and returned to bed. He scrubbed his hands over his face in anguish several times before finally pulling up the covers and lying down to watch the luminous numbers count off his remaining hours of insomnia.

Will knew he wasn't going to be a father just yet. But he also knew that, no matter what, he was ready to give fatherhood his best try.


End file.
